


Sir and King Announce Their Presence

by justwhatialwayswanted



Series: Apartment 314 [5]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Crack, M/M, also there are cats, and jean is smug, in which neil has one (1) good outfit and it's unintentional, kind of, not a hundred percent but thats the VIBE, not tagging relationships because it's just andrew being gay as fuck for you know who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/justwhatialwayswanted
Summary: Andrew is more of a cat person than he'd like to admit, which is why it's particularly disappointing that the meowing coming from the hallway does not, in fact, belong to any cats that he can adopt. He's even more disappointed when he meets their human.
Series: Apartment 314 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785295
Comments: 20
Kudos: 159





	Sir and King Announce Their Presence

**Author's Note:**

> In which Jean and Andrew meet Hot Neighbor Neil for the first time, and everyone is a mess, except maybe Jean.

Andrew is woken up to the sound of meowing louder than an alarm clock.

It is rare that he lets himself blatantly hope for things, but as he pushes his bedsheets off and stands up, he finds himself hoping that Jean hasn’t adopted a cat without him. If anyone’s adopting cats in this apartment, it shouldn’t be Jean. Andrew’s the introverted author who spends all day inside. (Jean is also almost all of those things, but Andrew has the author advantage and he will cling to it with all his might.) By all known rules of the universe, Andrew should be the one adopting the cats.

Then he hears voices and another meow louder than the voice of God, and all thoughts of cat adoption fly from his head in about the time that it takes for him to pull on a sweatshirt over his pajamas and storm out of his room.

Nobody’s in the apartment, and the voices are coming from outside, so Andrew yanks open the door and almost walks directly into Jean’s back. 

“What the fuck is happening,” he says, mostly to announce his presence, but also to possibly get an answer.

Jean moves a few steps to the right so that Andrew can see what’s happening, which is about when Andrew realizes two things. First of all, Jean is holding two cat carriers. With cats in them. And second of all, there is a strange man in the hallway, fumbling with the key to the apartment directly across from Jean and Andrew’s.

Andrew decides to deal with the more interesting matter first. “Did you adopt cats?” he asks Jean, who is wearing workout gear and doesn’t look like he’s been on a secret cat-adopting spree, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. He could be living a secret double life. And if Jean’s adopting cats without him, then Andrew will have the moral high ground to refuse to make pancakes for brunch on Saturday as revenge.

“New neighbor,” Jean replies, and nods toward the strange man. All Andrew can really see of him is his back, but he can tell that he’s hunched over the lock on the door like it contains the secrets of the universe.

“I’m Neil,” the man says without looking away from the lock.  _ How long can it possibly take to unlock one door? _ “Sorry about the noise.” And then he gets the door open and turns around, and the first thing Andrew notices is the pleased expression on his face, like it’s an achievement to open a fucking door.

The second thing is that he has red hair just long enough to reveal soft curls.

The third thing is that his eyes are the bluest Andrew’s ever seen.

“My cats are disasters,” Neil adds, and he has  _ cheekbones. _

Andrew needs to leave. Immediately. Especially since Neil is wearing tight jeans (well, not  _ tight, _ but tight  _ enough) _ and a green sweater that contrasts brilliantly with his hair and Andrew literally just rolled out of bed and supplemented his plain black sweatpants with a plain black sweatshirt.

“Clearly,” he replies, with as much dryness and disinterest as he can muster, and he hears a sharp exhale from Jean that could be a sigh, or it could be a hint of a laugh. Either way, it’s unmerited.

Usually, Andrew’s unimpressed voice deters absolutely everyone from trying to continue to interact with him, but Neil seems to take his one-word response as an invitation to keep talking. “Their names are King Fluffkins and Sir Fat Cat McCatterson, but I usually just call them Sir and King, and Sir figured out how to open the door to their last type of cat carrier and taught King how to do it, so I had to get them special ones, and they hate them but really it’s their fault. Or that’s what I keep telling them.” One of the cats meows— their lungs must be the size of beach balls, holy shit— and Neil frowns at the cat carriers and says, “They haven’t really gotten the message.”

Great. He talks to his cats. His two cats with stupid names who are also the loudest creatures under twenty pounds that Andrew has ever encountered in his life, who are moving into the apartment across the hall along with a man who’s as pretty as he is insultingly awake at ass o’clock in the morning. Andrew absolutely needs to escape this conversation. 

“If that’s all, I’m leaving,” he says, and he tries to make it sound as bored as possible.

“They’ll be quieter once I’ve gotten them out of their carriers,” Neil says, and he holds his arms out to Jean, who hands him the cat carriers. “Bye,” he adds carelessly, almost as an afterthought. Ugh.

And with that, Neil vanishes into #313, arms full of cats, and kicks the door closed behind him.

Jean snickers, and then says, softly enough that Neil  _ probably _ won’t hear it, “You are fucked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andrew informs him.

Jean continues like Andrew hadn’t even spoken. “Maybe you can adopt some cats so you have a reason to talk to him.”

“Why would I want that?” 

Andrew intends it to be rhetorical, but no such luck, because Jean replies.

“Cats and terrible awkward flirting. Your favorite things. You’d better hope he’s not secretly a pastry chef.”

“If he is, I’m sure he’s terrible at it,” Andrew says, mainly to preserve his dignity, but he’s fairly sure that Jean sees right through that.

He refuses to give Jean the satisfaction of looking up at him, but he can hear that Jean’s smiling when he says, “Good luck with that. I’m going to the gym.”

There’s another meow, and Neil’s voice saying “Sir, oh my  _ god,  _ would you  _ calm down,” _ and Jean chooses that time to make his dramatic exit, amid the sounds of Neil trying to convince his cats not to do… whatever they’re doing. His voice is bright and just a bit nasal and not pretty at all.

This is the moment that Andrew decides there is only one way to deal with New Neighbor Neil (he takes a moment to congratulate himself for the alliteration). They’re going to have to be mortal enemies. Nothing else will suffice.

When Andrew goes back into the apartment, he shuts the door firmly behind him and hopes Jean forgot his keys.


End file.
